Chapter Text
PART I
Tell me things you've never said out loud
Just try and go there if you can
To one, success can mean finishing college. To the other — settling down in big, beautiful mansion somewhere in California, having a loving spouse and three kids. There are also some people to whom being successful is the equivalent of being rich or famous or rich and famous. Point is, there are as many definitions of what success means as there are people in the whole wide world. It can’t be generalised, everyone sees it differently (even if these differences we speak of are tiny).
To Bucky Barnes success meant getting the newest Steve Rogers book before every other popular book nerd, reading it at the speed of light and writing the quickest review possible so no other book-blog or book-tuber would do it first. He’d be the herdsman of all these clueless sheep, his opinion the one every new potential Steve Rogers reader would value the most.
To some, the book nerd community could’ve been perceived as harmless and welcoming but Bucky knew better. Those people were anything but that. They were vile. Friendly smiles graced their faces, smiley emojis ended their blog entries but rotten personalities were trapped behind their warm façades.
Okay yeah, maybe he was exaggerating a tiny bit. But when one of the most anticipated book releases of the decade was right at the horizon he would not let himself get sidetracked.
The thing about Steve Rogers’ books was that no one really knew how they got so popular all of a sudden. They just did. One day you had no idea the man existed, then you blinked and boom — you saw his name plastered for the second month in a row on The New York Times Best Seller List. To say his books were good would be the understatement of the century. That man was the Mozart of creative writing. His ideas were fresh and the way his beautiful storytelling captured them was simply enthralling. When Haunted came out Bucky pulled an all-nighter which resulted in him having to write his history exam on zero sleep and two energy drinks, being super jittery, failing the said exam and still not regretting his decision one bit. After coming home he wrote his longest post to date about the sheer brilliance of the book and became a die hard fan of Steve Rogers and his beautiful mind ever since. The sequel, Innocent, despite having been written in only six months, wasn't any worse than its preceder . Steve was just that good. So, it was safe to say that the two years of waiting for Naive were pure agony.
Waiting that would be over soon.
***
“Hey! Watch where you’re walking, asshole!”
Bucky lifted his gaze from the unnerving e-mail on his phone only to look a very angry looking woman in the eye. She clutched her purse more tightly and quickly stormed away before Bucky even had the chance to say sorry.
Hello James,
We are happy to inform that your book has already been shipped and should be at your doorstep on Wednesday/Thursday.
Thank you for choosing us,
Arby’s Books
Wednesday or Thursday.
Thursday.
The official Naive release is on Wednesday. He can’t get it on Thursday. Too late. No. Nope. No. NO.
Bucky took a deep breath and headed towards the campus. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out. It’s just a book. Dead tree with words.
Wednesday. You’ll get it on Wednesday.
***
“How are you even planning on reading it so fast? Aren’t you dyslexic or something?”
Sam was chewing on his bagel and eyed Bucky curiously. They were sitting at a small table by the window, noises of the busy street partially muted by the glass.
“So? I’m determined. This live-laugh-love bitch Ashleigh can’t be first this time.” He absentmindedly stirred his fresh orange juice with a metal straw, looking at how the ice cubes slowly dissolved in the drink.
“Remind me why we hate her again?”
Bucky shot him an unimpressed look, took a bite of his croissant and answered with his mouth full.
“Because. Remember when Innocent came out?”
“Didn’t know Innocent was gay! Congrats, so happy for her!”
“Ha, ha.” He deadpanned. “Funny. So funny. Look at me, laughing. Ha. Anyway,” he slurped on the orange juice some more “She stole my readers.”
“How?”
“Because she was the first to review Innocent! And even you, someone who’s allergic to books and literature, know how big the hype for that book was. Now she’s the most popular book reviewer. I honestly have no idea how she even managed to get that book one day before the official release but I hope the dumbass who sold it to her a day early got fired.”
“Damn dude, is it really that serious?” Sam laughed but Bucky looked at him with a blank stare and with zero hesitation answered “yes” two seconds later.
“She gained like, half a million subscribers solely because of that.”
“But she’s a youtuber. You’re not. You run a blog, that’s different.” Sam pointed out while sipping on his black coffee. No sugar, no milk, just a simple black coffee. Basic. But made a statement.
“The most popular book reviewing blog, yes.” Bucky preened with pride. “Which means — now I have a reputation to maintain. If she posts her video first, some people won’t be interested in reading my thoughts on the book anymore. Or accuse me of ripping off her interpretations or something.”
Sam whistled and leaned back in his chair. “Won’t this pressure of being the first to review the book take away the pleasure of enjoying it?”
“No. I’m gonna devour this book in a matter of hours anyway, I’ve waited long enough, the only proper way to read it is reading it in one sitting.”
“I would never.”
Bucky laughed at him and patted his shoulder across the table. “Believe me, buddy, I know.”
“Do you even know how the guy looks like?” Sam wondered and downed the rest of his coffee. So bitter, yet his mouth didn’t flinch at all. Impressive.
“Does it matter?” Bucky shot back.
“I guess not. But you can’t tell me you’re not even a tiny bit curious. He’s, like, your all-time favourite author. What if he’s super ugly? Or if he’s pushing eighty?”
“You really believe a man that old would be able to write young characters that are this realistic? Or use a keyboard for that matter?”
“Point taken.”
“As for the ugly part, I don’t care.”
“You sure don’t.” Sam smiled slyly and Bucky punched him in the arm.
“Okay, maybe an attractive face would make a great addiction to that pretty mind of his. Not gonna lie.”
They got up to pay and left the café, heading to Bucky’s apartment.
“Have you tried googling him?” They were now walking on a sidewalk full of people, all rushing somewhere. There wasn’t a single person who was strolling at a somewhat normal pace. No, everyone was in a hurry. Fridays.
“Remember Allie? This cute girl from your economics class that you were totally crushing on? And how I found her instagram without you even giving me her name?”
Sam laughed. “Okay, I get it. I totally forgot about your special and very impressive stalking skills.”
“Exactly.” Bucky looked at Sam smugly. Then, a man with a very happy looking dog (Do dogs even smile? If so, then this one definitely was smiling) walked right past them, a determined look on his face as he quickly headed towards the crosswalk. The dog, however, had apparently different plans and suddenly stopped to sniff at Bucky’s leg. The owner huffed an annoyed sigh and whined “Noooo… Baxter, not this shit again! Please!” Bucky just laughed and petted the dog’s head.
“That’s fine. I really don’t mind.” He said, smiling at the furry intruder while scratching it behind the ears. “Aren’t you the cutest?” Baxter’s tail happily waggled some more but before Bucky knew it he was back at his owner’s side.
“Have a nice day!” He heard the stranger say, already turning around and walking away. Bucky only caught a quick glimpse of his face, his eyes focused on the man’s radiant smile. He had never seen someone with a smile as perfect as his.
“You too…” Bucky quietly muttered while silently cursing himself for not focusing on his whole face and wishing he’d gotten two seconds more to do just that.
“Dude!” Sam bumped his shoulder when the stranger was barely out of their earshot. “That can be your big chance at romance. Go after him!”
But Bucky stood still, dumbfounded. Finally, after a few seconds had passed, he turned around but the man was long lost in the crowd.
“I… have no idea what just happened.” He stared straight ahead — unfocused, mind racing. “There was just something about this guy that made me unable to think, I guess. It’s like suddenly I wasn’t playing the starring role in a movie about my own life — he was. ’S why I couldn't go after him. I was literally rooted to the spot.”
“Weird. That never happened to you before. And you’ve met a lot of pretty people.”
“Right? But none of them were so unnaturally captivating.” Bucky was so, so confused.
“Well, he was walking his dog so he must live somewhere in this area. Maybe we’ll see him again.”
Bucky’s apartment complex was right behind the corner. He pulled out the keys from his jacket pocket.
“Yeah… maybe”
***
Tuesday was hell. Bucky couldn't focus on anything, the only thing on his mind was the goddamn book and how it should be at his doorstep at exactly seven in the morning on the next day. Not an hour later. Definitely not a day later (like this stupid e-mail said it could).
Positive thoughts.
He was walking towards the main hall, a large cup of coffee in hand because there was no way he was gonna survive the morning lecture without it. Suddenly his phone vibrated, indicating he just got a text and Bucky’s heart rate sped up. Please let it be the book store please let it be the bookstore please—
from: SAM MY MAN
gon b late, save me a seat pls
Bucky sighed and sat in the back row, putting his bag on the seat next to him. He was in the middle of texting Sam to hurry up when he felt a hand softly tapping him on the arm.
“Sorry,” a tall, blonde guy smiled shyly and looked at him, gesturing towards the seat with his bag on it “I’m guessing this seat is taken?”
“You guessed correctly.” At this, his smile turned into a slight frown so Bucky quickly added “But the one on my left isn’t. You’re welcome to sit there.”
The guy beamed, walking past Bucky and setting himself next to him. He offered him a handshake. “I’m Aaron. And you are…?”
Bucky shook his hand. “James.”
Aaron’s look was a bit puzzled but he quickly covered it up with a smile, hoping Bucky wouldn’t notice. He did.
“James? Huh, must’ve misheard it, then.”
Does this guy know him? It was Bucky’s turn to look confused now.
“I was standing behind you in a line at Starbucks, you were with your friend. He called you B..inky?”
Bucky’s face turned from very confused to very mortified in a matter of seconds. He could feel it already flushing red. Oh no.
He laughed to cover up his embarrassment. “Bucky. He called me Bucky.”
Aaron smiled at him. “Oh. So my hearing’s a bit impaired, after all.”
“Friends call me Bucky. You can, too. If you want.”
There was a strange look in Aaron’s eyes as he answered “Okay. Nice to meet you properly, Bucky.”
He decided not to dwell on it.
Bucky’s last class — graphic design — was slowly coming to an end. He stared at his work at the big computer screen in front of him, not pleased with it but not completely disgusted. Indifferent. He couldn’t focus.
Ding. His phone vibrated with a new text message.
from: 202-555-0771
Your package has been delivered! Thank you for shopping with us.
Arby’s books
It was the quickest Bucky’d ever gotten home.
***
the Late Night Show with Lily Mitchell, July 8th 2017, New York City
“Steve. This isn’t the first time people hear about you on the TV. Your books have been talked about quite a lot over the course of the last three years, with them occupying The New York Times Best Seller List for weeks. But, this is the first time we’re seeing your face. May I ask — why now?” A brunette woman dressed in a professional looking, classy pink suit looked at Steve intently. They were in a small studio, her sitting behind a wooden desk, Steve on one of the grey couches next to it.
He coughed.
“Hmm…To be quite honest, I don’t really know myself. I guess I just wasn’t that keen on getting recognized. I mean, don’t get me wrong — I’m in no way a popular celebrity. I’m as far away from an A-lister as you can get, really” He laughed nervously. “But… I’m aware of the sudden success my books have gained.”
“So you wanted to remain… anonymous?”
“Yeah.” He gave her a small smile. “It gave me this weird sense of privacy. While my name got pretty big, I, myself, was still very much unknown. And I liked it that way.”
“But…?” Lily prompted. Steve played with his fingers a little but he wasn’t looking down. He was looking directly at her, like he wasn’t scared of suddenly being known to the world.
“I figured the time to show my face would eventually come. It was probably only a matter of months. I don’t mind it now. The only thing I care about is people enjoying what I write.”
“Speaking of which…” Lily pulled a copy of Naive out from behind her desk, showing the book to the audience. Loud cheers erupted, making Steve’s grin widen. “The final book of your Haunted trilogy is out now. Do you know The New York Times called it the most-anticipated book of the decade?”
More screaming from the audience. Steve blushed and ducked his head. “I had not idea, to be honest.”
“What do you want to say to your fans before they grab the book?”
“Hope it was worth the wait.”
***
The goddamn Marimba iPhone ringtone blasted on full volume in Bucky’s apartment. He glanced at his beaten-up phone.
Sam.
Decline.
Carry on reading.
It was two a.m., why was Sam calling him in the middle of the night anyway? He got back to the paragraph he was currently at, too engrossed in reading to care about anything else. If Sam wasn’t dying then he could wait.
Marimba again.
“God fucking dammit.” Bucky muttered, pressing the decline button.
Ding.
He quickly grabbed his phone to shoot Sam a text telling him that he’s alive, he loves him but asking him to kindly fuck off for now.
from: SAM MY MAN
dude I know ur reading rn but !!!!! CHECK THIS SHIT OUT. IMPORTANT. !!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrgiGbX4m8g
How important can a youtube video be?
to: SAM MY MAN
will do once im done reading. see u in a few hrs xoxo
Sam responded immediately.
from: SAM MY MAN
ok suit urself but… ;-)))
… The fuck?
Four hours later Bucky found himself still on his bed, legs crossed, Naive on his lap, open on the last page. Tissues were scattered everywhere, his vision blurred because of tears that had been consistently spilling from his eyes as he read the last twenty pages. He laughed at himself, sniffled and re-read the last sentence about fifteen times more. God, that… that was brilliant. He took a deep breath, opened his laptop and began writing a long, completely biased Naive review because he just loved Steve Rogers and his beautiful mind so, so much.
Yeah, he did have enormous bags under his swollen eyes and was on a verge of collapsing by the time he was done with half of his uni classes. He didn't care. He was so happy.
Bucky grabbed two large coffees (it was his turn now, Sam bought them last week) and waited outside the main building for Sam to arrive (hopefully on time) so they could head to their joint lectures together.
“Did you see the video I sent you?” was the first thing Sam said when he was in his earshot.
“No……t yet?” Bucky smiled at him sheepishly. “I got too caught up in reading this absolute fucking masterpiece, prime example of fine literature, eighth wonder or the world.” He handed Sam his coffee. “I promise I’m gonna watch as soon as I can.”
“Did you at least beat that Ashleigh bitch? Were you the first to review it?”
Bucky gave him a tired but content smile. “Yes.” He then took a large gulp of his coffee and sighed in satisfaction. “I checked how well my post was doing right before you arrived.”
“And…?” Sam inquired. But, judging by the look on Bucky’s face he figured it was doing more than good.
“A hundred comments already! Definitely my new record!” He preened.
“Bet you didn’t even try to stay non-biased.” Sam casted him one of his looks.
“Please, when it comes to Steve Rogers I’m physically unable to. My fingers won’t write anything that’s not pure praise. My brain won’t even process thoughts other than those practically worshipping his writing.”
“I mean…Fair enough. But — watch the video. Now.”
“Now? What’s it about? Because you sure ass hell can’t be so persistent on me watching it if it ain’t something that’d move me in a weird way.”
Sam smiled at him smugly. Motherfucker. “Just trust me.”
Bucky then pulled out his phone and opened the link Sam sent him last night. Before the thumbnail finally loaded (thanks to his shitty phone data crumbs because he’d used most of it on binging true crime series) the screen was black, save for the title: Steve Rogers on the Late Night Show with Lily Mitchell. Bucky paused the video before it had a chance to start playing. He looked at Sam, shocked expression painted on his face.
“Is this really him?”
Sam nodded, the smug smile never leaving his face. “Mhm.”
“Sam! I’m not ready! Oh my god! I need a minute.” Five seconds passed. “Okay, never mind, I’m good to go.”
“Are you, though?” Sam quietly muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” He smiled sweetly at Bucky. Boy, he was so not ready.
The video played. Lily Mitchell smiled at the audience and introduced Steve as her next guest. The cheering was so loud Bucky had to lower down the volume. Then, the camera focused on a man dressed in a white sweater and dark jeans. Okay, so he definitely wasn’t an old grandpa. When he turned around, though, that’s when Bucky almost dropped his phone.
“You’re shitting me.” He whispered. “Sam…is…is that…?”
“Can bet my house on it.”
“Can’t be…” Shocked wasn’t the right word to describe what exactly Bucky was feeling in that moment. Horrified? A bit, yeah. Wonderstruck? Definitely. He was feeling so much he couldn’t put that into words. Steve Rogers would be able to do that perfectly, not him.
Steve Rogers, with whom he apparently had chatted a few days ago. Whose dog he’d petted. Whose smile left him so dumbfounded he couldn’t move.
He looked at sam, horrified.
“I met Steve Rogers and didn’t know it.”
“Not only that, but you were also so astonished you spaced out!”
“Not helping.”